No man can create time, he can only create instruments to track it, and to be able to create something complex enough to track time was a gift, a gift the watchmaker was proud to possess. Taking apart an aged clock, gently lifting the face to reveal the intricacies within never failed to amaze the watchmaker- that man could create something so pure and as perfect as a keeper of time.
In the workshop of his Father’s shop, the watchmaker would sit surrounded by keepers of time, each second hand of each and every clock and watch moving in exact synchronisation creating a small hum of cogs turning. The watchmaker smiled- it was so perfect and pristine.
The clock before him was running half a second slow. It had been out in the main area of his Father’s shop for sale, but the watchmaker could not let the clock be sold when it did not run at exact time- that would be cheating the customer, and that would be wrong. It was 8 seconds past midday and his Father had left the shop to purchase sandwiches for their precisely 20 minute lunch break. They would then start work again, and then take a tea break at 3:15. They would resume work at 3:30 then at 5:00 close the shop for the night and be home for 5:47. The watchmaker and his Father ran their lives by the ticking of their clocks.
As the watchmaker made the second hand move forward he caught something- something that was not meant to be in a clock. He set the clock down and picked a pair of tweezers and leaned over the clock and extracted the alien object. The watchmaker was confused; he turned around to hold the object up to the lamp.
It was a hair. A long, very fine strand of golden hair.
The watchmaker looked at it in confusion- he himself had not blonde in his hair and his Father’s hair had been grey for many years now. How had this golden hair got caught in a clock that the watchmaker himself had built over a year ago?
He delicately lifted the hair from the tweezers and placed it in the palm of his pale hand. It just lay there. Perhaps, the watchmaker wondered, that it had belonged to a customer with an interest in the clock, but had not purchased it. Or perhaps this customer, possibly female, had lifted the clock up to hear the ticking (the watchmaker himself had the habit of listening to the rhythm of a clock) and a stray hair had been caught inside the mechanics of it. The watchmaker wondered then if this woman had noticed the clock was half a second out then perhaps she decided not to purchase it.
The watchmaker was about to dispose of the hair when an image rose in his mind- the owner of the hair, a woman, with blonde hair perfectly styled and with sparkling blue eyes. The watchmaker liked this image, especially when he coupled it with the idea that this woman had showed an interest in clocks, much an interest the watchmaker shared. He did not realize he was smiling.
The watchmaker sat at his bench, but his mind had long flown away from the shop to this owner of the golden strand of hair. He wondered that if this woman had not been too offended by the clock that was half a second slow that she may indeed return to his Father’s shop to inspect the clocks and watches once again. Then perhaps she would notice the watchmaker sitting in the light of his workshop, composing another clock, then she may approach the watchmaker- a conversation would begin. About clocks? Most likely. He would say something deep and interesting about the nature of man been able to keep time, and she would be wowed be his poetic philosophical nature. They would speak of their past- the woman would tell the watchmaker of a bad past relationship she had barely escaped from, and (up until this point) believed she would never love again. The watchmaker would be flattered and casually ask her if she would accompany him to dinner this Friday. She would smile and say ‘of course’. No, the watchmaker had a better idea- she would say ‘No, I’m sorry’, then watchmaker would be dejected but then she would say: ‘I should have made myself clear, I’m busy Friday but free Saturday instead’? The watchmaker smiled.
Each day for the following weeks, the watchmaker moved his chair a little closer to the door that connected him to the shop, in the hope his daydream woman would enter. Each time the little bell above the door tinkled the watchmaker jumped up and looked into the shop to see with disappointment that it was not who he was looking for.
His hands became shaky. He felt like nerves and excitement were fighting it out in the pit of his stomach. His watch making was become increasingly sloppy. His Father had to HAVE WORDS with him, something that had not happened in many years. The watchmaker kept his head bowed so not to reveal the deep shame on his face- as his Father said watch making was an absolute gift that was given to very few, and to produce substandard pieces of work was to cheat the customer. “Do you want to cheat the customer?” His voice boomed.
“No, Father.” Came the quiet response. The watchmaker wanted to tell his Father that he struggled to work to his normal standard because he was in love. Yes, he admitted he was in love. He could not admit to the Father that he had finally found love- he would not understand.
The watchmaker had kept the strand of fine gold hair wrapped in a handkerchief which he kept in his shirts drawer at home. Late at night he would often take it out and caress the hair and continue his dream of life with it’s owner. By now they were to be married, at first Father had not consented by once he saw that the young couple were truly in love he caved in, much to their delight and they celebrated with a bottle of red wine.
Vienna or Switzerland? The watchmaker pondered on a rainy Tuesday. Which would be the preferred honeymoon destination? They would have to bring Father along too, if he could bear to shut the shop. Then again, the watchmaker thought it be better if they just stayed in Britain. He’d never flown before and after all he’d heard about plane crashes and such and such it might not be such a good idea. An early death was not one he had planned, but he was trying not too think of that- he wanted to go through their life in a logical order.
It was on a Friday, when Father had left to purchase sandwiches for lunch that the watchmaker had been left in charge of the shop. There was the tinkling of the bell, and the watchmaker felt his heat stop for a moment and he knew it was her.
She was about 10 years older than he thought. And perhaps she had more weight on her than he had thought, and her eyes were green, not blue, but still- it was her. She came to the counter and told the watchmaker than she had come to collect her clock she’d sent in for repairs. The watchmaker took the repairs slip from her and found her clock, and gently handed it over to her. She thanked him and left.
The watchmaker sighed. He had forgotten to ask her name.
Monday, 18 August 2008
'Out Of Time'
“You wanna talk?” She said as I began to put my undergarments back on. “Some guys they wanna talk.” She carried on, “They wanna talk and tell you ‘bout their lives and all their problems and about their wives giving them trouble.” I slipped my trousers on as she spoke, “Then some guys just want to do their business and be gone.” She paused, bite her lip and asked- “Are you the talking type, mister?”
“Nup.” I replied and lit a cigar.
“Oh God, open the window, mister. I can’t stand the smell of those things.” She order me, and after a pause I did as told. It was still light outside and I could see my horse tied up down stairs. It’d be about 15 minutes before Jack and company arrived. It wouldn’t take them too much trouble to find me. The town was pretty much without face or character, just waiting for the wind of the civil war to blow through and tear it apart.
She stayed within the sheets of the bed, just watching me. Her crimson hair tumbled prettily around her pale shoulders. The girl hadn’t been cheap, but I figured that if it going to be my woman before I die it might as well be a good one. I can’t remember if she said her name was Lily or Rosemary, but I might have got her confused with another one of the girls in the building. The madam told me that she was 21, but I think she was only 17. It didn’t matter. I’d enjoyed it.
“Mister?” She asked, “You want me to go?”
I shrugged.
“You don’t say much, do you?”
“Nup.” I picked up my gun holster and slipped it on. I wasn’t planning on using it when Jack and company found me. They’ll be expecting me to surprise them and surprise them I will- by not fighting back.
“I hate those things.” She announced, “Guns, not the holsters that is. My pappy got himself killed with one. He was working on the farm and then men came all in black and ridin’ on black horses and- blam.” She sighed, “And that was the end of Pa.” I nodded. Probably hired killers. I done one or two jobs like that myself in the past. Never liked killing farmers. They always had families. When I killed Fred I did not feel bad- he had deserved it. The one time I don’t feel guilty is the time it comes back to haunt me.
“You ever killed a man, mister?” She asked.
“Noah.”
“What?”
“My name aint ‘Mister’. It’s Noah.”
She opened her mouth and let out a long ‘Oh’. Then her eyebrows narrowed and she said, “Like the Bible guy?”
“Yeah. Just like the Bible guy.”
“I used to go to church. I liked all the singing.” She frowned, “They don’t let me in church anymore, not since Mrs. De Winter took me in after Mama died. She died about a year after Pa. My brother, Billy went off to join the army, then my sister Fran got married to a nice man.” She paused, “She died too. So did that baby of hers. She never got to see it. I think… Mister Noah, that I might be cursed when it comes to family. They all seem to die. You got any family?”
“Nup.” Jack and company had made sure of that. Trying to spurn me into action but instead I just ran away- like a coward. But now I’m going let them catch me. I’d had enough of running.
“Where you going, Mister Noah?”
“What?”
“I mean, after here. Nobody wants to stay in this town. Not even me.”
I let out a small smile along my cracked face, “Somewhere I haven’t been before.”
“Like an adventure?”
“You could say that.” I stubbed out the cigar and threw the butt out of the window. “You mind if I have another?”
She shook her head. “Nope. I like talkin’ to you. You don’t say too much.” She smiled, “I’m not going to stay in this town forever you know. No, not me.” She leaned forward, “I’ll tell you a secret, Mister Noah-” And she in an almost whisper, “I’m gonna run my own farm.”
Crazy girl. No one would ever let some ex-whore run a farm. “Cute dream.” I said.
“No, I know how to do it. When my pappy was alive I used to help on our farm. I cold do all the stuff the boys could do and then some.” She folded her arms across her chest, “Hell I could run a farm with my eyes closed and arms behind my back.”
“’Course.”
“I am very serious about all this. All I need’s the money, that’s all, and I reckon I’m almost half way there from what Mrs. De Winter gives me.”
“Money aint everything.” I said and I meant it. If it weren’t for the damned money I wouldn’t be here waiting for Jack and company to find me- waiting for them to kill me. My family would still be here. I wouldn’t have had to run for 5 years. Did the money make it worth it? No it did not. In five years I spent maybe three hundred dollars out of the ten thousand I had stolen. I could not spent it or else it would leave a trail for them to find, but now I did not care and I had spent a little of the money for them to follow me. They could have it for all I cared.
I looked out of the window down the street and I could see a group on the horizon riding up. It had to be them, who else would stumble into this little town than Jack and company? My time was up. I turned and looked and the girl on the bed, and I said. “Get out.”
“What?” She said surprised.
“Get your clothes on and get out.”
There was hurt across her face at my suddenness, she slowly got out of the bed and picked up her clothes, she looked at me and said, “I thought you wanted to talk.”
“I changed my mind.”
She began to put some of her clothes back on but she wouldn’t look me in the eye. Poor little girl. As I watched her return to her clothes I began to get an idea, I figured it might be worth it. She was about to leave when I said, “Wait.” She turned back to me and I picked up my jacket from the floor and pulled on a little grey bag. It was filled with notes and gold that I had stole. “Here.” I said and tossed it towards her.
She took it in her hand and looked back up at me and said, “Mister?”
I looked out the window and saw that Jack and company were in town now. I looked back at the girl and said, “Just get going.”
Her little hands felt the bag and she realized what was in it, “Mister Noah-” A grin spread across her face, and I cut her off.
“Talk to no one. Just get out. Hell, take my horse. It’s the grey one outside.”
“But-”
“Don’t ask questions. Go find your farm.”
There was a smile on her face so wide it could have covered Texas. She opened the door, and stepped into the corridor, taking one last look at me then shutting the door.
I guessed she’d probably pass Jack and company on the way down stairs. I found it pretty funny that they’d pass the girl and she’d be carrying all the money they were after- the money I killed Fred and wounded Jack for. At least somebody’d be actually using the money now.
Every step I heard on the stairs I was convinced it was theirs. Death was coming towards me, but I wouldn’t fight. I’d had enough running for my life, I’d make my peace with God. Or the Devil, whichever of them’s got a hold of my ass. I’d be waiting right here to see Jack again, see if he’s still got the crazy look in his eye. Doesn’t matter now- I don’t have the money. Joke’s on you, boys. Ha.
“Nup.” I replied and lit a cigar.
“Oh God, open the window, mister. I can’t stand the smell of those things.” She order me, and after a pause I did as told. It was still light outside and I could see my horse tied up down stairs. It’d be about 15 minutes before Jack and company arrived. It wouldn’t take them too much trouble to find me. The town was pretty much without face or character, just waiting for the wind of the civil war to blow through and tear it apart.
She stayed within the sheets of the bed, just watching me. Her crimson hair tumbled prettily around her pale shoulders. The girl hadn’t been cheap, but I figured that if it going to be my woman before I die it might as well be a good one. I can’t remember if she said her name was Lily or Rosemary, but I might have got her confused with another one of the girls in the building. The madam told me that she was 21, but I think she was only 17. It didn’t matter. I’d enjoyed it.
“Mister?” She asked, “You want me to go?”
I shrugged.
“You don’t say much, do you?”
“Nup.” I picked up my gun holster and slipped it on. I wasn’t planning on using it when Jack and company found me. They’ll be expecting me to surprise them and surprise them I will- by not fighting back.
“I hate those things.” She announced, “Guns, not the holsters that is. My pappy got himself killed with one. He was working on the farm and then men came all in black and ridin’ on black horses and- blam.” She sighed, “And that was the end of Pa.” I nodded. Probably hired killers. I done one or two jobs like that myself in the past. Never liked killing farmers. They always had families. When I killed Fred I did not feel bad- he had deserved it. The one time I don’t feel guilty is the time it comes back to haunt me.
“You ever killed a man, mister?” She asked.
“Noah.”
“What?”
“My name aint ‘Mister’. It’s Noah.”
She opened her mouth and let out a long ‘Oh’. Then her eyebrows narrowed and she said, “Like the Bible guy?”
“Yeah. Just like the Bible guy.”
“I used to go to church. I liked all the singing.” She frowned, “They don’t let me in church anymore, not since Mrs. De Winter took me in after Mama died. She died about a year after Pa. My brother, Billy went off to join the army, then my sister Fran got married to a nice man.” She paused, “She died too. So did that baby of hers. She never got to see it. I think… Mister Noah, that I might be cursed when it comes to family. They all seem to die. You got any family?”
“Nup.” Jack and company had made sure of that. Trying to spurn me into action but instead I just ran away- like a coward. But now I’m going let them catch me. I’d had enough of running.
“Where you going, Mister Noah?”
“What?”
“I mean, after here. Nobody wants to stay in this town. Not even me.”
I let out a small smile along my cracked face, “Somewhere I haven’t been before.”
“Like an adventure?”
“You could say that.” I stubbed out the cigar and threw the butt out of the window. “You mind if I have another?”
She shook her head. “Nope. I like talkin’ to you. You don’t say too much.” She smiled, “I’m not going to stay in this town forever you know. No, not me.” She leaned forward, “I’ll tell you a secret, Mister Noah-” And she in an almost whisper, “I’m gonna run my own farm.”
Crazy girl. No one would ever let some ex-whore run a farm. “Cute dream.” I said.
“No, I know how to do it. When my pappy was alive I used to help on our farm. I cold do all the stuff the boys could do and then some.” She folded her arms across her chest, “Hell I could run a farm with my eyes closed and arms behind my back.”
“’Course.”
“I am very serious about all this. All I need’s the money, that’s all, and I reckon I’m almost half way there from what Mrs. De Winter gives me.”
“Money aint everything.” I said and I meant it. If it weren’t for the damned money I wouldn’t be here waiting for Jack and company to find me- waiting for them to kill me. My family would still be here. I wouldn’t have had to run for 5 years. Did the money make it worth it? No it did not. In five years I spent maybe three hundred dollars out of the ten thousand I had stolen. I could not spent it or else it would leave a trail for them to find, but now I did not care and I had spent a little of the money for them to follow me. They could have it for all I cared.
I looked out of the window down the street and I could see a group on the horizon riding up. It had to be them, who else would stumble into this little town than Jack and company? My time was up. I turned and looked and the girl on the bed, and I said. “Get out.”
“What?” She said surprised.
“Get your clothes on and get out.”
There was hurt across her face at my suddenness, she slowly got out of the bed and picked up her clothes, she looked at me and said, “I thought you wanted to talk.”
“I changed my mind.”
She began to put some of her clothes back on but she wouldn’t look me in the eye. Poor little girl. As I watched her return to her clothes I began to get an idea, I figured it might be worth it. She was about to leave when I said, “Wait.” She turned back to me and I picked up my jacket from the floor and pulled on a little grey bag. It was filled with notes and gold that I had stole. “Here.” I said and tossed it towards her.
She took it in her hand and looked back up at me and said, “Mister?”
I looked out the window and saw that Jack and company were in town now. I looked back at the girl and said, “Just get going.”
Her little hands felt the bag and she realized what was in it, “Mister Noah-” A grin spread across her face, and I cut her off.
“Talk to no one. Just get out. Hell, take my horse. It’s the grey one outside.”
“But-”
“Don’t ask questions. Go find your farm.”
There was a smile on her face so wide it could have covered Texas. She opened the door, and stepped into the corridor, taking one last look at me then shutting the door.
I guessed she’d probably pass Jack and company on the way down stairs. I found it pretty funny that they’d pass the girl and she’d be carrying all the money they were after- the money I killed Fred and wounded Jack for. At least somebody’d be actually using the money now.
Every step I heard on the stairs I was convinced it was theirs. Death was coming towards me, but I wouldn’t fight. I’d had enough running for my life, I’d make my peace with God. Or the Devil, whichever of them’s got a hold of my ass. I’d be waiting right here to see Jack again, see if he’s still got the crazy look in his eye. Doesn’t matter now- I don’t have the money. Joke’s on you, boys. Ha.
Friday, 8 August 2008
I Love Blonde On Blonde
I love 'Blonde On Blonde' by Bob Dylan- it truly is an exceptional album.
You get some albums that are a collection of great songs, but those sort of albums are most likely to fit snugly into a play list and be shuffled into other music, but a 'great' album has a sound to it that is distinctly that album and I think 'Blonde on Blonde' fits this category. Even Bob Dy;an himself has said the album is the closest he's ever got to the 'thin, wild mercury sound' that his music makes in his head. It's no surprise the next album he released was a stripped down, quieter affair- after two previous albums Dylan finally gets the electric guitar/harmonica/organ combination just right.
The songs themselves are mostly brilliant, listen to this (or listen to it as you read the rest of this review)- 'I Want You', a song that always makes my toes tap.
I love that jangly guitar sound. 'Blonde on Blonde' contains several classic songs, opening with the infectious 'Rainy Day Women #12 &35', but from that raucous opening the songs get increasingly sober to the quiet and reflective final track 'Sad Eyed Lady of the Lowlands' (which I shall discuss later). There's the classic 'Just Like A Woman', and lesser known but still great songs like 'Temporary Like Achilles' There's a clear blues-y influence on a lot of tracks like 'Leopard Skin Pill Box Hat' and 'Pledging My Time', and these slot perfectly against the more poetic songs 'Visions of Johanna' and 'Stuck Inside A Mobile With Those Memphis Blues Again'.
Speaking of poetry- Dylan once again proves he is the poet laureate of the 60's. The lyrics to this album are among the finest and strongest in his career, often the lyrics aren't straight forward at all but cryptic and highly symbolic, but retaining his sly humour. The final track on the album is the epic 'Sad Eyed Lady of the Lowlands' which clocking in at 11:32 took up a whole side of an LP upon it's initial release. This has to be one of the most beautiful and unconventional love songs ever recorded, it takes my breath away each time I hear it. Even though the lyrics are symbolic references to the relationship with his wife, Sara, the listener can tell this is a heart-felt affair. The affection that appears in his voice is unmistakably.
You get some albums that are a collection of great songs, but those sort of albums are most likely to fit snugly into a play list and be shuffled into other music, but a 'great' album has a sound to it that is distinctly that album and I think 'Blonde on Blonde' fits this category. Even Bob Dy;an himself has said the album is the closest he's ever got to the 'thin, wild mercury sound' that his music makes in his head. It's no surprise the next album he released was a stripped down, quieter affair- after two previous albums Dylan finally gets the electric guitar/harmonica/organ combination just right.
The songs themselves are mostly brilliant, listen to this (or listen to it as you read the rest of this review)- 'I Want You', a song that always makes my toes tap.
I love that jangly guitar sound. 'Blonde on Blonde' contains several classic songs, opening with the infectious 'Rainy Day Women #12 &35', but from that raucous opening the songs get increasingly sober to the quiet and reflective final track 'Sad Eyed Lady of the Lowlands' (which I shall discuss later). There's the classic 'Just Like A Woman', and lesser known but still great songs like 'Temporary Like Achilles' There's a clear blues-y influence on a lot of tracks like 'Leopard Skin Pill Box Hat' and 'Pledging My Time', and these slot perfectly against the more poetic songs 'Visions of Johanna' and 'Stuck Inside A Mobile With Those Memphis Blues Again'.
Speaking of poetry- Dylan once again proves he is the poet laureate of the 60's. The lyrics to this album are among the finest and strongest in his career, often the lyrics aren't straight forward at all but cryptic and highly symbolic, but retaining his sly humour. The final track on the album is the epic 'Sad Eyed Lady of the Lowlands' which clocking in at 11:32 took up a whole side of an LP upon it's initial release. This has to be one of the most beautiful and unconventional love songs ever recorded, it takes my breath away each time I hear it. Even though the lyrics are symbolic references to the relationship with his wife, Sara, the listener can tell this is a heart-felt affair. The affection that appears in his voice is unmistakably.
I would not recommend this though, as a starting point to Bob Dylan and his work. To a none Dylan fan unused to his work it's likely to come off as a strange and confusing record. I'd tell a beginner to start elsewhere and build up to 'Blonde on Blonde', but once you reach it you can appreciate what a stunning album it is.
Masterpiece? Perhaps.
Thursday, 3 July 2008
A Joker and Two Dylan's (Things I'm Looking Forward To This Summer)
1. Getting to see Heath Ledger's performance in 'The Dark Knight'. I know that after his death there was even more hype about his performance as the Joker, but the week before he died I got caught up in the hype from the trailers- it looks like a terrific performance and I told several people on different occasions that I was looking forward to it. Sadly it will be marred by his death this year. The tragedy is that it looked set to elevate him from being a popular actor to a respected one.
2. The aspect of going on holiday that I'm looking forward to most is going to see Dylan Thomas' boathouse (going to Wales, see) and I'm a big fan of his. Though I've yet to see the movie released about him 'The Edge of Love' mostly because I hate the fact the advertising and marketing is all about Keira Knightly and Sienna Miller and that fact the former sings in it, rather than it been a biopic of a genius.
3. Speaking of Dylan's- the film 'I'm Not There' is released on to DVD, a film about Bob Dylan (with the genius idea of having 6 actors portray different version of Dylan) and I didn't get to see it in the cinema (damn university taking up my cinema going time!) so I very, very much looking forward to it!
That's all I can think of right now...
2. The aspect of going on holiday that I'm looking forward to most is going to see Dylan Thomas' boathouse (going to Wales, see) and I'm a big fan of his. Though I've yet to see the movie released about him 'The Edge of Love' mostly because I hate the fact the advertising and marketing is all about Keira Knightly and Sienna Miller and that fact the former sings in it, rather than it been a biopic of a genius.
3. Speaking of Dylan's- the film 'I'm Not There' is released on to DVD, a film about Bob Dylan (with the genius idea of having 6 actors portray different version of Dylan) and I didn't get to see it in the cinema (damn university taking up my cinema going time!) so I very, very much looking forward to it!
That's all I can think of right now...
Monday, 30 June 2008
Book Listy Thingy
Apparently most people have only read 6 out of the 100 top books (a great shame). So here's mine- bold one are ones I've read, italics means I want to read them and underlined means I love said book.
1. Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
2. The Lord of the Rings - JRR Tolkien
3. Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte
4. Harry Potter series - JK Rowling
5. To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee
6. The Bible
7. Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte
8. Nineteen Eighty Four - George Orwell
9. His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
10. Great Expectations - Charles Dickens
11. Little Women - Louisa M Alcott
12. Tess of the D'Urbervilles - Thomas Hardy
13. Catch 22 - Joseph Heller
14. Complete Works of Shakespeare
15. Rebecca - Daphne Du Maurier (I do know the opening line off by heart though0
16. The Hobbit - JRR Tolkien (Only read some of it)
17. Birdsong - Sebastian Faulks
18. Catcher in the Rye - JD Salinger
19. The Time Traveller's Wife - Audrey Niffenegger
20. Middlemarch - George Eliot
21. Gone With The Wind - Margaret Mitchell
22. The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald
23. Bleak House - Charles Dickens
24. War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy (Now that I've read it all it's offically my favourite book I've ever read)
25. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams
26. Brideshead Revisited - Evelyn Waugh
27. Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky
28. Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck
29. Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll
30. The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame
31. Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy (Reading this at the moment and very much enjoying it)
32. David Copperfield - Charles Dickens
33. Chronicles of Narnia - CS Lewis (I've read 3 of the books all the way through and started but never finished the other 4)
34. Emma - Jane Austen
35. Persuasion - Jane Austen
36. The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe - CS Lewis (Why is this seperate to the Chronicles of Narnia?)
37. The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini
38. Captain Corelli's Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres (I want to read it after meeting the author)
39. Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden
40. Winnie the Pooh - AA Milne
41. Animal Farm - George Orwell
42. The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown
43. One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
44. A Prayer for Owen Meaney - John Irving (Started it but never finished)
45. The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins
46. Anne of Green Gables - LM Montgomery
47. Far From The Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy
48. The Handmaid's Tale - Margaret Atwood
49. Lord of the Flies - William Golding
50. Atonement - Ian McEwan
51. Life of Pi - Yann Martel
52. Dune - Frank Herbert (Did start reading it during my GCSEs, but it wasvery hard to juggle bewteen the two so I gave up)
53. Cold Comfort Farm - Stella Gibbons
54. Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen
55. A Suitable Boy - Vikram Seth
56. The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon (I think this might be the only book on the list I've never heard of!)
57. A Tale Of Two Cities - Charles Dickens (Did start reading it once but it was during A Level revision, not a good mix)
58. Brave New World - Aldous Huxley
59. The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time - Mark Haddon
60. Love In The Time Of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
61. Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck
62. Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov
63. The Secret History - Donna Tartt
64. The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold (Currently been turned into a movie by Peter Jackson)
65. Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas (Started it but never finished it)
66. On The Road - Jack Kerouac
67. Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy
68. Bridget Jones' Diary - Helen Fielding
69. Midnight's Children - Salman Rushdie
70. Moby Dick - Herman Melville
71. Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens
72. Dracula - Bram Stoker
73. The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett
74. Notes From A Small Island - Bill Bryson
75. Ulysses - James Joyce
76. The Bell Jar - Sylvia Plath
77. Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome
78. Germinal - Emile Zola
79. Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackeray
80. Possession - AS Byatt
81. A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens
82. Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell (That's two book I've not heard of before...)
83. The Color Purple - Alice Walker
84. The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro (I did start reading it but didn't finish it, even though I really was enjoying it)
85. Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert
86. A Fine Balance - Rohinton Mistry
87. Charlotte's Web - EB White
88. The Five People You Meet In Heaven - Mitch Albom
89. Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
90. The Faraway Tree Collection - Enid Blyton
91. Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad
92. The Little Prince - Antoine De Saint-Exupery
93. The Wasp Factory - Iain Banks
94. Watership Down - Richard Adams (Bright eyes, burning like fire...)
95. A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole
96. A Town Like Alice - Nevil Shute
97. The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas
98. Hamlet - William Shakespeare (My favourite play ever!)
99. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Roald Dahl
100. Les Miserables - Victor Hugo
23/100
I'm a bit disappointed by that, I'd thought it'd be more! If I included books I've started and not finished then it'd be 37, which looks better.
1. Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
2. The Lord of the Rings - JRR Tolkien
3. Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte
4. Harry Potter series - JK Rowling
5. To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee
6. The Bible
7. Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte
8. Nineteen Eighty Four - George Orwell
9. His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
10. Great Expectations - Charles Dickens
11. Little Women - Louisa M Alcott
12. Tess of the D'Urbervilles - Thomas Hardy
13. Catch 22 - Joseph Heller
14. Complete Works of Shakespeare
15. Rebecca - Daphne Du Maurier (I do know the opening line off by heart though0
16. The Hobbit - JRR Tolkien (Only read some of it)
17. Birdsong - Sebastian Faulks
18. Catcher in the Rye - JD Salinger
19. The Time Traveller's Wife - Audrey Niffenegger
20. Middlemarch - George Eliot
21. Gone With The Wind - Margaret Mitchell
22. The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald
23. Bleak House - Charles Dickens
24. War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy (Now that I've read it all it's offically my favourite book I've ever read)
25. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams
26. Brideshead Revisited - Evelyn Waugh
27. Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky
28. Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck
29. Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll
30. The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame
31. Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy (Reading this at the moment and very much enjoying it)
32. David Copperfield - Charles Dickens
33. Chronicles of Narnia - CS Lewis (I've read 3 of the books all the way through and started but never finished the other 4)
34. Emma - Jane Austen
35. Persuasion - Jane Austen
36. The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe - CS Lewis (Why is this seperate to the Chronicles of Narnia?)
37. The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini
38. Captain Corelli's Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres (I want to read it after meeting the author)
39. Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden
40. Winnie the Pooh - AA Milne
41. Animal Farm - George Orwell
42. The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown
43. One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
44. A Prayer for Owen Meaney - John Irving (Started it but never finished)
45. The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins
46. Anne of Green Gables - LM Montgomery
47. Far From The Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy
48. The Handmaid's Tale - Margaret Atwood
49. Lord of the Flies - William Golding
50. Atonement - Ian McEwan
51. Life of Pi - Yann Martel
52. Dune - Frank Herbert (Did start reading it during my GCSEs, but it wasvery hard to juggle bewteen the two so I gave up)
53. Cold Comfort Farm - Stella Gibbons
54. Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen
55. A Suitable Boy - Vikram Seth
56. The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon (I think this might be the only book on the list I've never heard of!)
57. A Tale Of Two Cities - Charles Dickens (Did start reading it once but it was during A Level revision, not a good mix)
58. Brave New World - Aldous Huxley
59. The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time - Mark Haddon
60. Love In The Time Of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
61. Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck
62. Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov
63. The Secret History - Donna Tartt
64. The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold (Currently been turned into a movie by Peter Jackson)
65. Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas (Started it but never finished it)
66. On The Road - Jack Kerouac
67. Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy
68. Bridget Jones' Diary - Helen Fielding
69. Midnight's Children - Salman Rushdie
70. Moby Dick - Herman Melville
71. Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens
72. Dracula - Bram Stoker
73. The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett
74. Notes From A Small Island - Bill Bryson
75. Ulysses - James Joyce
76. The Bell Jar - Sylvia Plath
77. Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome
78. Germinal - Emile Zola
79. Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackeray
80. Possession - AS Byatt
81. A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens
82. Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell (That's two book I've not heard of before...)
83. The Color Purple - Alice Walker
84. The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro (I did start reading it but didn't finish it, even though I really was enjoying it)
85. Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert
86. A Fine Balance - Rohinton Mistry
87. Charlotte's Web - EB White
88. The Five People You Meet In Heaven - Mitch Albom
89. Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
90. The Faraway Tree Collection - Enid Blyton
91. Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad
92. The Little Prince - Antoine De Saint-Exupery
93. The Wasp Factory - Iain Banks
94. Watership Down - Richard Adams (Bright eyes, burning like fire...)
95. A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole
96. A Town Like Alice - Nevil Shute
97. The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas
98. Hamlet - William Shakespeare (My favourite play ever!)
99. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Roald Dahl
100. Les Miserables - Victor Hugo
23/100
I'm a bit disappointed by that, I'd thought it'd be more! If I included books I've started and not finished then it'd be 37, which looks better.
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